Bar Fights and Break Ups
by Dangermiss
Summary: After Jim stumbles home from another bar fight, Bones decides he can't handle the kid and tells him he's done. Disclaimer: I do not, unfortunately, own any part of the Star Trek Universe, including the characters. Those honors go to a lot of people that are not me, including Gene Roddenberry's estate and Paramount Pictures.


No doubt about it, that was certainly the worst fight they had ever had. Jim had commed Bones with cuts on his face and arms, and, Bones later discovered, sporting a sprained ankle as well. Bones had snapped.  
"Dammit, Jim- I'm not your personal fucking physician. I'm a doctor, but more than that, I'm your goddamned boyfriend. And you know what? If you want to go get drunk and have the living shit beat out of you, fine. But I'm not dealing with it anymore, okay? You're on your own."  
"Bones! Come on, I've had worse and we both know it. Don't leave."  
But Leonard McCoy had already left the dorm, slamming the door shut behind him.

In all honesty, he knew he shouldn't have left. Jim was his best friend, his everything. But he was tired of patching the damn kid up after the bar fights. He went back to his own room, ignoring his roommate's greeting from the other room, and went to sleep on top of his covers, still dressed in his red cadet uniform.

Bones spent the next few days sitting in the dead middle of the crowd in any gen-ed class he shared with Jim and picking up extra hospital shifts just to avoid seeing his boyfriend. He knew it was stupid, but he needed a few days away from the kid. "This weekend," he said to himself as he walked back to his room after dark. "I'll go talk to him this weekend."

But he never got the chance. Saturday afternoon, as he was sitting on his bed staring blankly at the PADDs that held all of his books, he heard a soft knock on the door to his dorm room. He opened the door to see Jim standing in the hall, holding a guitar Bones didn't even know the kid had, much less could play, and giving him a small smile.  
"Hey, Bones," he said softly, "can I come in?"  
Bones shrugged and stepped back from the door, allowing Jim enough room to step through the door. "I was, uh, actually just coming to see you."  
"Bones! Can you be quiet for one damn minute? There's something I wanted to say to you," Jim quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his cerulean eyes. Before Bones could reply, Jim sat on the end of the coffee table, propped the guitar up on his knee and began to sing directly to his boyfriend.  
"_I miss the sound of your voice, and I miss the rush of your skin, and I miss the still of the silence as you breathe out and I breathe in. If I could walk on water, if I could tell you what's next, I'd make you believe, I'd make you forget." _He paused singing, strumming the guitar with the biggest smile Bones had ever seen on his face, his eyes gleaming with the obvious pride he felt in the idea. "_So come on, get higher, loosen my lips, faith and desire and the swing of your hips just pull me down hard and drown me in love. So come on, get higher, loosen my lips-"  
_Jim never got to finish the chorus. Bones cut him off, kissing him harder and longer than ever before, using his hands to swing the instrument around Jim's shoulders before climbing into his lap and ruffling the short blond hair that he loved so much. When they finally broke apart, they were both panting, and leaned their foreheads against each other.  
"So, are we good?" Jim asked.  
"On one condition," Bones said, smirking. "Anytime you have something important to tell me, and that includes making up after a fight, you have to sing to me."  
Jim groaned. "Bones! Do you know how long it took me to learn that damn song? Guitar chords from the 21st century aren't exactly just lying around at the library, you know."  
Feeling Bones start to slide off his lap, Jim panicked a teeny bit. He'd almost lost Bones this last time, and the past week without his boyfriend had been hell. "Fine, Bones! But only the important things," he grumbled.  
Bones grinned and kissed his boyfriend again, lighter this time. "Have I ever told you how great of make-up sex I give?" he said nonchalantly, tugging the guitar strap over Jim's head as he spoke.

**Author's Note:** This idea came in a few stages, and was written in a relatively short time span. First came the accidental stumbling upon of pictures of Chris Pine with a guitar, then came hearing this song on the radio at 6:30 am, and last came the part where I'm in a pool for two hours with the damn song stuck in my head and suddenly... McKirk inspiration. Like I said, it took longer to write than it should have, but that's because I was writing, working outside and cooking all at the same time.


End file.
